As Mrs. Blumpitty did not instantly corroborate this result of the fifteen minutes in the red satin corner, “You promised me that,” said Mrs. Mar, with a suddenness that sounded less like maternal solicitude than truculence, “and I promised you shouldn’t be a loser by it.”
“Yes—oh, yes, ma’am, I’ll do all I said.” Merely looking at Mrs. Mar seemed to galvanize Mrs. Blumpitty into heroic mastery of her shyness. She clasped her thin hands in their gray cotton gloves tightly together, and felt herself called upon instantly to prove her present knowledge and prospective usefulness.
“H-have y’ got a boy’s rubber coat, comin’ to the knees?” she inquired of the younger lady.
“No,” said Hildegarde. “Ought I—?”
“Yes, you must have that, mustn’t she?”
“Ya-as.”
“And waterproof boots?”
“I’ve got them.”
“With asbestos soles?”